"The hell you have!" says I. "Well, I can't talk to you. What made you come back? Where you been?" "Out West," says he, "on the Circle Arrow Ranch." "What's that!" says I. "What do you mean?" "Just what I said. I've been working out there. I found I could rope a little and I didn't always fall off a horse. You see, the old man owns a lot in that company." "Why didn't you tell me you was going out there?" says I. "And how come these folks to take you back?" "They couldn't help it," he says. "I told you I had too much on them. You'd ought to see how things is going out there! They had to take me back." "Well, what are you breaking a hole in our fence for?" says I. "Quit it! Do you want to get buried in a sunk garden, instead of on the lone prairee? Leave our fence alone." "Your fence? It's our fence. Don't I know all about it? It was a damn shame, Curly." "What business is it of yours?" says I to him. "Well, I hate to see the family I work for make such fools of theirselfs." He was setting up close to the wall now, looking through. He went on talking: "If I put the bricks in again on my side, and you on yours, who'll know the hole's there?" "We've got ivy on our side," says I. "It's green and 'most to the top of the wall. But I don't know now why you broke that hole through." "Curly," says he, "I want to let Peanut through, so's he can have a good friendly fight with my dog once in a while. Sometimes I'll pull some of the bricks out. I reckon Peanut'll do the rest." "Peanut'll not do no more visiting," says I; "and I've got orders not to have any sort of truck with anyone on your side of the fence." He set quite a while quiet, and then says he: "Is that so, Curly?" says he. "It certainly is," I answered him. "When a thing starts, till it's settled you can't stop Old Man Wright. Sometimes he pays funeral expenses," says I, "but when anybody gets on the prod with him I never saw him show no sign of beginning to quit. He can't," says I; "none of them Wrights can." "Do you mean they're all that way, Curly?" "The whole kit of 'em, me included," says I, "and the servants within our gate, and our ox, and our hired girl, and all our hired men." "Even the maidservant within your gates?" ast he of me. "Shore!" says I. "Her especial and worst of any." "But you don't take no hand in this war?" says he. "That's just what I do," says I to him. "That's what a foreman's for. You'd better plug up that hole and stay on your own side of the fence." He set quiet for a time and then he says: "I'm darned if I do!" "Good-by, Jimmie," says I. "Oh, shucks!" says he. "I'll see you from time to time." I didn't make no answer but to put the bricks back in the hole on our side.